


A Familiar Tune

by cryptidturtle



Category: Disney Ducks (Comics), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: (References Della and her lullaby), (on Donald's part at least), Episode: s02e07 What Ever Happened To Della Duck!, Family, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Guitar lessons, HDL are age 7, Lazy Mornings, Parent Donald Duck, Reminiscing, Set Before Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 20:11:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18581746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptidturtle/pseuds/cryptidturtle
Summary: Donald is enjoying a nice summer morning on the deck of the houseboat, guitar in hand and lazily strumming a song, when his seven-year-old nephew Dewey asks him to teach him how to play. As if he'd ever say no.





	A Familiar Tune

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said: "For the prompt thing: Donald trying to teach one of the kids how to play the guitar?"
> 
> i don't play guitar so this fic required a lot of research and i essentially taught myself how lol  
> the notes for della's lullaby aka the moon theme were found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vSYLwSJtk9k)
> 
> talk to me about ducks on my sideblog [transdarkwingduck](https://transdarkwingduck.tumblr.com/)

 

Donald sat reclined on the deck of the houseboat, relaxing in the cheap pool lounge chair he’d purchased a summer or two ago. The sun shone down on him in a pleasant manner, the gentle breeze blowing through his feathers kept the June heat from being too overbearing. The salty air in the Marina he found refreshing as always.

In Donald’s arms was his old and well-loved guitar, his one hand holding the neck and the other lazily draped over the bridge. His eyes were shut enjoying the sun warming his face. He felt the worn strings with his fingers and played an easy tune from muscle memory. It was a slow day, one of the few he managed to get off from work that wasn’t for one of his nephews’ school functions or extracurricular activities. The triplets were probably sleeping in, it was a rare quiet.

The gentle pad of webbed feet across the deck alerted him to the disturbance. He kept his eyes closed as the seven-year-old in question climbed up onto the lounge chair. Donald waited for Dewey to get settled before he opened his eyes and quirked an eyebrow.

“Your brothers still asleep?” He asked, still strumming a soft tune.  
  


Dewey nodded, “Louie is. Huey’s reading.”  
  


Donald made an affirming hum, “You want breakfast yet?”  
  


“Nah, ‘not that hungry right now.” Dewey said with a shake of his head.  
  


 “We’ll wait for Huey and Louie to get up then.” Donald replied, content to relax and let the conversation lapse into peaceful silence while Dewey decided what he wanted to say.  
  


 “Can you teach me?”  
  


 Donald straightened up a bit, “Hm?”  
  


 “Teach me guitar? Like songs and stuff.” Dewey clarified.  
  


 Donald seemed pleasantly surprised, “ ‘Course I can, why the sudden interest?”  
  


 His nephew shrugged, “Dunno. Sounds cool I guess.”  
  
Huey had been the one who seemed the most interested in string instruments, he recently started cello lessons. While Louie loved to listen to music, not so much play it. Aside from the occasional sound effect on a keyboard or playing his DJ persona, Dewey hadn’t shown that much of an interest. It was a nice thought, the idea of teaching one of them to play since he’d picked it up at such a young age.  
  


Donald gave him a soft smile, “Alright then let’s start.”

At his encouragement, Dewey crawled over to Donald’s lap and sat down. He shifted his weight, getting comfortable before looking up at Donald expectantly.

“Okay well first off I’m gonna show you how to hold the guitar, this one’s a little big on you but you’ll get the general idea,” He instructed. “This long skinny part is the neck of the guitar; these metal bits are called frets.” Donald gestured to the pieces of the guitar as he spoke. “You’re ambidextrous so what hand do you wanna use the most?”  
  
  
Dewey furrowed his brow, thinking for a moment. “I wanna use my left.”

  
“Mkay, when you use your left you balance the guitar on your left knee, hold by the frets with your right, and strum with your left hand by that big hole in the guitar.” Donald said, gently positioning Dewey’s hands in the right places.

   
Dewey mimicked Donald’s instructions, his beak pursed slightly in concentration. “So, when do I get to start actually playing music?”

   
Donald let out a laugh, “Patience, Dew. The guitar’s already tuned so I’ll show you how to do that later, we can start learning notes now.”  
  
At Dewey’s enthusiastic nod, Donald gestured for him to play the first string. “Each string has a name. This one’s called E.” Another string, “That’s A.” They went down the six strings, Donald naming each of them as Dewey played. “How I remember the order is EADGBE or Eddie Ate Dynamite Good Bye Eddie.”

   
Dewey muffled a giggle, “Why’d he eat dynamite?” He asked with a grin.

  
“That’s just a way to remember it, but maybe he didn’t listen to his uncle when he told him not to,” Donald playfully teased, gently tapping Dewey’s beak with his finger.

   
His nephew’s face scrunched up as if affronted by the beak boop, “I bet dynamite tastes gross. It’s the explode-y stuff, right?”

   
Donald laughed quietly, “We are definitely not finding out.” He raised an eyebrow, “Now how do you know about dynamite?”

   
“Cartoons!”

  
He snorted, “Yeah I should’ve expected that.” Donald took notice of Dewey’s anticipated wiggling and a fond smile made its way to his beak. “Alright, alright, go ahead and give it a strum I know you want to. Use smooth and relaxed motions.”

Dewey whispered a quiet but victorious _yes!_ under his breath. He strummed once, then twice, his face lighting up as he listened to the pleasant noise it created. At the encouraging nod Donald gave him he began to play the individual strings, doing his own little mishmash of what he learned and plucking whatever sounded good to his ears.

Donald’s expression had grown warm, a glowing sense of pride rising up in his chest as Dewey looked at him expectantly silently asking _how’d I do?_ He chuckled and gave Dewey an affectionate hair ruffle, “Well aren’t you a lil Rockstar! What? Have you been secretly practicing behind my back?” He accused lightheartedly.

   
The praise got a giggle and a big ol’ smile out of Dewey which was Donald’s goal. “I’m the master of improv guitar!” He exclaimed.

   
“Well, _oh great master_ how about I teach you some chords, huh?”

 

* * *

 

Donald had managed to teach Dewey a few of the basic and simple chords, guiding his fingers on where to hold the frets. He had been about to inform his nephew they could save learning more for another lesson when Dewey leaned against him.

“Can you teach me the one you were playing earlier?” Dewey asked, looking up at Donald.

   
He made a _hmm_ noise, he hadn’t been paying any particular attention to what song he was playing, just going through familiar fingerings as he lounged about. “Sure, how did it go?”

  
“Like this-“ Dewey broke off to begin humming and recognition flooded Donald’s face. Her Lullaby. He hadn’t even realized he was playing it.

 

Donald smiled, one faint and nostalgic, “Of course.” The familiar ache of loss had dulled over the years but even if Dewey had asked back when it was still fresh and sharp, he would never refuse his boys such a request.

 Donald pressed a kiss to Dewey’s cheek, ignoring his beloved nephew’s grumbling protests. He gently took ahold of Dewey’s right hand, leading it to the 20th fret of the D string, “You hold that down when you strum, let’s go note by note.”

And so they went, the original tempo slowed to an easier pace as Dewey puzzled out the notes with Donald’s patient hands to guide him to the right fret and right string. It was choppy, with a few missed notes and fumbling but it was still distinctly his sister’s lullaby. Donald couldn’t be prouder.

  
16 18 18 on the G string, 19 18 19 on B, 16 18 E, 19 18 19 B, 21 E, and 19 19 on B.  
_Look to the stars my darling baby boys…_

   
  
With Donald’s help, Dewey played through the song, once again looking up at his uncle silently asking him to rate his performance. Dewey faltered upon seeing the fond and warm expression on Donald’s face. “I did good, _right?_ ” He baited, seeking a compliment and not quite comprehending why Donald’s eyes looked just the least bit misty.

   
Donald blinked, shaken out of whatever soft memories had briefly crept up on him. His beak curled into a wide smile and he wrapped Dewey in a hug, “You did great! I’m so proud of you, that’s not a very easy song to learn and here you are playing like a pro!”

   
Dewey snuggled up against Donald, his face flushing as he looked somewhat bashful at the praise. “ ‘m gonna be _super_ good at guitar, you gotta teach me,” He mumbled into Donald’s warm embrace, leaving no room for debate.

  
“I’d be happy to, Dew.”

  
They sat, curled up in quiet comfort for a few peaceful minutes. Before long Dewey’s restless energy got the better of him, he squirmed, and Donald gently released him from the hug. He understood his nephew’s need to fidget.

Dewey’s legs draped over the edge of the lounge chair, swinging absentmindedly. His little brow furrowed slightly; a telltale sign he was figuring out how to word what he wanted to say as he looked out at the ocean. Donald merely waited, feeling no need to rush him.

   
“I remember that song,” Is what Dewey says.

   
Donald’s eyebrows rose, mildly surprised, “You do?” It was as a while ago since he last played that for them, he found it impressive Dewey managed to recognize the tune.

  
Dewey nodded, “Mhm… You’d play it for us when we were little, a buncha other stuff too but that was my favorite.”

   
His expression softened, “...It’s my favorite too. Is that why you wanted to learn?” Donald’s voice wasn’t the most _soothing_ per say when trying to get baby triplets to settle down for bed. So, wielding his trusty guitar he’d managed to find another way to get them to sleep, softly strumming sweet songs seemed to do the trick. He figured out the notes to his sister’s treasured lullaby and adapted them to guitar, at the time desperate to impart some gesture of comfort in their mother’s name.

Dewey nodded yet again, and Donald smiled down at him, his heart effectively warmed by Dewey’s admission.

   
Dewey raised his arms and stretched before curling up against Donald’s side, enjoying the pleasant rays the sun brought down on them. “I’m all guitar-ed out. Can you play for me some more?” Dewey asked, burying his head into Donald’s shirt.

   
“I think that can be arranged,” Donald replied, pulling the guitar close to him again and minding his cuddly nephew. He felt the faded wood beneath his fingertips and let his hands drift towards the strings as he quietly began to play.

 

* * *

 

 It wasn’t long before they had company, the soft guitar traveling through the rooms of the houseboat.

First was Huey, padding out with a book tucked under his arm, clearly investigating the source of the noise. He took note of Donald and his guitar, along with his brother snuggled up beside him. A soft smile made its way to his face as he wordlessly plopped on the edge of the lounge chair. Huey got comfortable and cracked open his book, content to listen to the music while he read.

Then came Louie, quite obviously still groggy from waking up. He shambled out onto the deck and scrubbed at his tired eyes; desiring company having wondered where his family wandered off to. Louie gave a sleepy grunt in greeting and crawled up onto the chair. He curled up near Dewey, using Donald’s legs as a pillow and drifted off not too long after.

 

Donald let out a pleased hum as he continued to play. He was more than happy to enjoy the lazy summer morning. With the sun warming his feathers, the faint salt air, the gentle rocking of the houseboat, the sounds of waves accompanying his guitar, and most importantly: with his boys there to enjoy it with him.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i love comments and hearing thoughts on what ive wrote! they make my whole day  
> give me a shout here or my duck tumblr, requests are open!


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